


Pour Yourself All Over Me

by rsadelle



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:36:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, P.K. takes to just showing up at Danny's door, sometimes with food, sometimes just with a smile. Occasionally, when Danny invites him over, with a smirk and comments about Danny making booty calls. But the first time he texts, <i>What's your address?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Pour Yourself All Over Me

**Author's Note:**

> For an anonymous request for "something about Danny B." Title from Zedd's "Stay the Night."

Later, P.K. takes to just showing up at Danny's door, sometimes with food, sometimes just with a smile. Occasionally, when Danny invites him over, with a smirk and comments about Danny making booty calls. But the first time he texts, _What's your address?_

Danny eyes the message with suspicion. He's trying to get to know his new team, but he also knows how hockey players can be, and he doesn't know who the pranksters on this team are yet. _Why?_

_I'm coming over to keep you company._

If P.K. is looking to prank him, that's not very reassuring. Danny chooses to give him the benefit of the doubt and take it as a genuine offer of company. He texts P.K. his address and hopes he won't regret it later.

He doesn't when P.K. shows up, because P.K. brings food that he waves under Danny's nose when Danny lets him in.

"Thank you," Danny says. He still isn't quite sure why P.K. is here, but he gets forks, napkins, and water from the kitchen and they sit down on either end of the couch

"Oh, I didn't do all this for you," P.K. says with a grin that says he's full of shit. "This is for me, man. If I don't eat alone, I don't have to listen to Carey and Angela being all worried about me later."

Danny chuckles. "You get that from them a lot?"

"Oh, yeah," P.K. says, "you know how newlyweds are. Can't believe anyone's happy without a spouse." He reaches across the space between them to poke Danny's calf with his toes. "Can't believe I can eat a meal by myself sometimes."

"But not today," Danny says.

"Well, no," P.K. says. "I know you're still getting to know us all, and you're probably pretty lonely and stuff. This is partly for you."

It's a kind sentiment, even if Danny isn't lonely. He's still getting to know the guys and his kids are still in Jersey, but he has friends in Montreal. A few of them. Who he sees occasionally when they're not working and he's in town. Okay, he's kind of lonely.

"Thank you," Danny says solemnly, "for rescuing me from a night of loneliness and terrible food." He flashes a grin at P.K. when he laughs. "This is really good."

"I know all the best takeout in the city," P.K. boasts with a grin.

Danny chuckles. "You'll have to teach me all your secrets." Even if this doesn't make him appreciably closer to his teammates, he'll at least get some takeout options out of it.

"Maybe not all of them," P.K. says, and then they dig into their food for real, not talking much while they refuel.

Danny takes the empty containers to the kitchen when they're done, letting P.K. relax in the living room.

"This is a pretty sweet set-up," P.K. calls. "You play a lot of video games?"

"No." Danny calls back. "It's mostly for the kids when they come to visit."

P.K. raises his eyebrows. "Lot of video game equipment for people who don't even live here."

Danny leans against the door jamb between the kitchen and the living room. "I thought you were supposed to be making me less lonely."

P.K. makes an apologetic face, big and clear like all of his expressions. "Sorry, Danny. Didn't think that one through." Then he brightens up, sunny smile spreading across his face. "Want to make out?"

Danny blinks. "Uh." Nothing else about the evening felt like a date.

"Just an idea," P.K. says, still smiling at him. "You're lonely, I like making out." He spreads his arms out. "I'm good at making out."

Danny looks him up and down as subtly as possible. It's not subtle enough, going by the smug look on P.K.'s face.

Danny crosses his arms over his chest. "What makes you think I want to make out with you?"

"You haven't kicked me out yet," P.K. says. "I like my chances. What do you say?"

Danny laughs at the absurdity of the situation. "P.K.," he says, not entirely sure what else he's going to say.

"Come on, Danny," P.K. says with a grin. "Didn't you ever practice kissing with guys in Juniors? It'll be like that."

Danny uncrosses his arms and lets them fall to his sides. "No," he says. "I had a girlfriend when I was in Juniors."

For some reason, that's the thing that makes P.K. pause. "Huh." Then he shrugs, muscled shoulders lifting and falling. "This is your chance to find out what you were missing out on."

Danny laughs because it's so brazen and just the kind of easy, confident offer he would expect from P.K. It's more than he's laughed away from the rink in a while, and it's that more than anything else that makes him say, "Okay."

P.K.'s face lights up with a smile. "Great!" He crosses the room to Danny.

Danny never really notices how big P.K. is until they're standing right next to each other. He has to look up a ways to meet P.K.'s eyes.

P.K. goes slow when he leans down to kiss Danny the first time, which is a thoughtfulness Danny appreciates. It's the first time he's made out with someone bigger than him, and he needs the extra second to adjust to it.

It's not that different, once he gets past the fact that he's the one leaning up, and he lets himself get lost in what it feels like to kiss someone, the kind of slow, easy kissing he hasn't gotten much of in recent years.

Danny wraps his arms around P.K., getting a feel for how solid and large he is, letting himself feel all the muscle P.K.'s using to gently hold him against the doorway while they make out.

"Danny," P.K. says with a murmur after a while.

Danny just mmms and kisses him again, because now that they're doing this, he's really enjoying the way P.K.'s mouth feels against his.

"Hey," P.K. says, his hands on Danny's biceps, "hey, Danny, let's take this to the couch." He nips at Danny's lip. "I'm getting a crick in my neck."

Danny peers at him suspiciously. "Did you just call me short?"

"Oh, I didn't mean to," P.K. says, "but you are pretty short." He squeezes Danny's arm. "Come over to the couch. It'll be better for both of us.

Danny balks when P.K. tries to tug him down onto his lap.

"Come on," P.K. coaxes. "I'd sit on your lap, but that wouldn't solve our height problem."

"My height is not a problem," Danny says, but this time he lets P.K. pull him down. P.K.'s thighs are thick enough that Danny's legs have to spread wide over them. It's an uncomfortable feeling at first, but then P.K.'s drawing him in to kiss him again and he forgets about it for a while.

His attention gets drawn to it again when he shifts just right and his cock, which is having the predictable reaction to making out with someone hot, rubs against the thick muscle of P.K.'s thigh.

"Danny," P.K. says, a little out of breath from their kissing but still managing to sound impressed. "Taking things up a notch."

Danny starts to pull away, but then P.K. rolls his own hips up, and he can feel that P.K. is also hard. And then he stops thinking about it being just a good time making out, because he might get an orgasm out of this, one that's not all due to his own hand.

Danny deliberately rolls his hips down against P.K.'s, shifting to get their cocks more or less lined up. "They say I'm good in clutch situations," he says.

P.K. throws his head back with a delighted laugh, and Danny takes advantage of the way it bares his neck to lightly bite at his throat while he rolls his hips against P.K.'s.

P.K. makes a satisfied noise and lets Danny kiss and nip at his neck for a little bit before he tips his head down so he can mouth at Danny's neck. That sends a spark of heat through Danny that makes him gasp and roll his hips a little harder. He could definitely come from this.

"Wait, wait," P.K. says after a while, his hands on Danny's hips stilling their movement.

Danny freezes. Maybe getting off isn't what P.K. had in mind.

P.K. kisses his jaw. "Man, you can just change your clothes, but I have to go home after this, and nothing of yours is going to fit me." He pushes Danny back a little, not off his lap all the way, but a little, and unbuttons his jeans.

Danny moves too, standing up long enough to get his cock out while P.K. shoves his pants and boxers down toward his knees, and then he straddles P.K.'s thighs again, the vulnerability of the stretch less alarming now that he's so far into what they're doing.

"Oh, man," P.K. says when their cocks meet skin to skin. "That's good." He hooks one arm casually across Danny's back and kisses him.

Danny gets lost in that again, making out and rubbing their cocks together. It fulfills all his needs for human contact, is going to get him off without much more than just this.

P.K. stops kissing him, pulls his head back just a little, and looks down. Danny looks down too, at both of their cocks rubbing together, and then at P.K.'s hand wrapping around both of them. Danny's cock, full and red as it is, looks almost pale against the contrast of P.K.'s much darker skin.

Danny takes in a gasping breath when P.K. moves his hand, jerking them both off slow and steady. He swears, in French but P.K. seems to understand anyway.

"Hey, Danny," P.K. says. "You want to just watch, or you want to make out until we come?"

Both options are equally attractive, and Danny just grunts out a noise that isn't an answer.

P.K. answers it with a noise of his own that might be a chuckle. "Yeah, come here." The arm around Danny's back tightens, drawing Danny in to where P.K. can kiss him. P.K. manages to let him do both, kissing him for a while, drawing back to let them both look down at their cocks in his hand, kissing him again.

Danny swears every time P.K. pulls back to let him look, mix of French and English that doesn't mean anything except that he needs to say something.

"Man," P.K. says, "I never thought you would swear so much in bed." He jerks their cocks faster. "It's pretty hot."

"How are you still talking?" Danny barely manages to string the sentence together.

"One of my talents," P.K. says. On the next upstroke, he rubs his thumb over the head of Danny's cock and grins at the way it makes Danny jerk and cry out. "That's another one of them."

P.K. stops talking then, and kisses Danny instead, licking deep into his mouth, everything wet and hot and deliriously good.

Danny comes while they're still kissing, touch of P.K.'s thumb over the head of his cock and P.K.'s tongue in his mouth too much not to come anymore. He doesn't get to watch it, but he pulls back a little after, looks down at his come striped white over P.K.'s fingers, and watches P.K. jerk himself off until the come on his hand isn't just Danny's.

Danny leans in to kiss P.K. lazily as they come down. He doesn't do it for long, though, because he's too tired, his ass going numb from the way he's perched on P.K.'s legs. He slides off of P.K. and onto the couch next to him.

"So that was fun," P.K. says. He pats Danny's thigh. "Want to do that again sometime?"

"Uh, maybe, yeah," Danny says.

P.K.'s hand doesn't move anywhere but up. "Don't sound so worried, Danny. It's just a little fun. I don't expect anything else from you." P.K. turns to kiss him again, sloppy this time with the angle not quite right, and then he pats Danny's thigh and practically bounces up from the couch.

Danny watches him head toward the kitchen. "How do you have so much energy right now?"

"I'm young and spry," P.K. calls back.

Danny groans and tips his head against the back of the couch. "Don't remind me. You know you're closer to my kids' ages than mine."

Danny can hear P.K.'s laugh even over the sound of running water. "Calm down, Danny. I'm not _that_ young. It's not like you just hooked up with Chucky."

Danny takes a moment to contemplate that, and then shakes his head. "Don't even suggest that. Besides, I don't think Chucky would go for a casual hookup with a teammate."

P.K. pokes his head out of the kitchen. "No?"

"He doesn't seem like the type." Danny closes his eyes, leaning against the back of the couch. He can hear P.K. moving around in the kitchen, and the couch dips when P.K. sits down next to him.

"You didn't seem like the type either," P.K. says, "and yet here we are." He puts his hand on Danny's still bare thigh and kisses him, something Danny smiles into. He doesn't really need to move again. P.K. can show himself out and maybe Danny will just sleep on the couch.

Three days later, when they're passing each other in the hall at the rink, P.K. grabs Danny's arm and says, "Chucky would." It takes a minute for Danny to figure out what he's talking about, but when he does, he laughs almost as loud as one of P.K.'s laughs.


End file.
